


everybody knows the war is over

by Imagining_Fantasy



Series: the winter festival saga [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dream SMP War, Father-Son Relationship, Festivals, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Good Jschlatt, Hybrids, Misunderstandings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Villain Wilbur, War, he's very evil i'm sorry fellas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27347545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_Fantasy/pseuds/Imagining_Fantasy
Summary: After Wilbur pre-emptively detonates his bomb in Manberg, Tommy lives in the shadows of Pogtopia in fear of the chaotic world above.It will take his best friend to bring him back to a reality that's very different than what Wilbur told him.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: the winter festival saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998655
Comments: 10
Kudos: 486





	everybody knows the war is over

**Author's Note:**

> This AU takes place in a world where Wilbur detonates the bomb before any sort of festival and Tommy is sheltered from many of the realities of Schlatt's (evil?) rule.
> 
> AKA I'm a sucker for Good Schlatt. 
> 
> Enjoy.

With a sharp gasp Tommy awoke, mind heavy with images of charred earth, flames, and the screams of people as they were violently thrown into the respawn cycle. His hands were clammy and trembling and he brought them up to cover his mouth before a pained whimper escaped his lips. He blinked rapidly, trying to just _forget_. He struggled to breathe, chest heaving. The entire room was full of the memories he was trying to shove down but his subconscious kept dragging out of the dirt. 

He wished they were a figment of his imagination - still nothing but Wilbur’s sick fantasy. For so long he denied they would ever come to fruition. No matter how bad things got, Wilbur was always the person Tubbo and Tommy turned to. He built L’Manberg out of the ashes of defeat and beat insurmountable odds. Doubts and fear were thrown to the wayside with confidence instead of the arrogance that tended to cloud his own judgment. Hope seemed to come to Wilbur as easily as cunning came to Dream. Sometimes he wondered if it was built into the man’s very code. 

If anyone could conquer his demons, it’d be Wilbur. Or so they thought.

As it turns out, Wilbur’s demons blew the fucking country to kingdom come, just like he said it would. Tommy just didn’t expect it to happen so _soon_.

He shook his head, dropping his still-trembling hands from his mouth and clasping them on his lap, wringing them together anxiously. All it took was one slip-up, one noise, and Wilbur would interrogate him with those purple-ringed eyes and that crazed smile. 

It already happened this week when he went out for food for the first time in weeks. He opened the door to Pogtopia and the tall man was standing there, fists clenched, shaking with contained rage. Wilbur pulled him by the ear down to the ravine as he went on mad rant about Manberg and _“that fucking traitor Tubbo”_ \- who Tommy hadn’t seen in over three months. 

He missed Tubbo so much it made his heart twist in his chest. He couldn’t sneak out long enough to send a message, and there was no way he was brave enough to ask Techno. 

After the explosion, he watched as Techno stalked the scene like a vulture, running through any survivors with his trident, the victims’ hands coming up to protect themselves before they crumbled into code. Such a sight hardly fazed a man who had seen more death and violence than anyone else on the server combined. 

He thanked every god in the sky that Tubbo was nowhere to be found that fateful day. Or anyone else from L’Manberg. 

Even if death was temporary, everyone had to live with mental scars, not physical ones. Tommy knew all too well what happened to old players who couldn’t bear the constant cycle of death and life anymore. If Tubbo went to a hardcore server to escape the pain of his memories, Tommy wasn’t sure how he’d live with himself anymore. He was the one who dragged Tubbo into all of this in the first place.

A noise from the ravine shook him from his thoughts and he immediately shot to his feet, scrambling to get dressed before Wilbur caught him sleeping in. 

“Uh, one minute!” he called, trying his best to mask the panic in his voice. Fuck, he was so screwed.

The footsteps grew closer and Tommy slipped a sword into his hand... just in case. He didn’t want to think about what “just in case” meant. 

He took a deep breath, forced a fake smile onto his face, and turned to find... a shadowed, horned figure looming in the entrance to his room. Wilbur and Techno didn’t have horns, so that could only be one person - the man who exiled him at gunpoint. Who separated him from his best friend.

Tommy screamed, tripping over his own feet and falling backwards. Amidst his panic, he dropped the sword and it clattered across the floor, quickly moving out of reach. 

How the fuck did _Schlatt_ get into Pogtopia? How did he know where it was? Was Wilbur even alive? 

“Stay back! I’m warning you!” Tommy screamed, head turning and eyes blinking rapidly as another panic attack rose up from his stomach into his lungs. “I-I’ll fucking kill you!” 

His vision was clouded. Between the dark shadows of the ravine and his intensely panicked state, Tommy could barely make out Schlatt’s fuzzy shape. The deadly ram horns and long, fluffy ears were all he needed to recognize the tyrant. 

The first time he saw the ram hybrid, he thought Schlatt was one of the demons Fundy talked about hunting. Now that the man was cloaked in shadow and poised to kill him, he decided he wasn’t that far off.

The shadow took a step forward, but the shoes that emerged from the shadows weren’t the businessman’s usual polished business shoes, they were... trainers. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows. That wasn’t right. Wilbur once said Schlatt wouldn’t be caught dead dressing casual.

“Tommy, it’s me,” a higher-pitched, familiar voice whispered. Schlatt took a step forward and it wasn’t Schlatt at all it was _Tubbo_. It was Tubbo with- with horns and ram ears and blue eyes with horizontal pupils instead of circular ones. His hands were raised and he walked slowly like he was approaching a scared animal, as if he wasn’t the real animal in the room. 

Tommy decided this was a dream. Yeah, he’d definitely laugh about this later. Tubbo wasn’t a hybrid, let alone a ram hybrid, so maybe the Sky Gods had a sense of humor, after all. He’d thank them for making him laugh for the first time in months once he woke up. 

Tubbo frowned when Tommy’s panicked breathing turned into hysterical laughter and he clutched his stomach, his head falling back as wheezes wracked his body. It was just too ridiculous to take seriously. 

“You’re a real funny guy, you know that?” He spat at fake-Tubbo. 

“W-What?” the boy stammered. 

“Yeah, man, you’re hilarious!” he exclaimed, shoving himself to his feet and pushing a finger into fake-Tubbo’s chest. “Coming in here as a ram hybrid thinking I’d believe it when my Tubbo has been trapped by that monster for- for months! I can’t believe this dream is happening. It’s so-”

“Tommy. It’s me.” 

Wait.

Tubbo’s voice was more steady and firm than he ever remembered it being. And for some reason, that made Tommy want to believe him. Surely his subconscious couldn’t make this when it had no source material. Right?

His gaze dropped up and down Tubbo’s body, trying to connect this hybrid to the man he had by his side for so long before things went to shit. Despite everything... it was still him. He still wore a green sweatshirt with holes in the seams and had chaotic, ruffled hair. Pinned to his shirt was the little bee pin Tommy gave him as a gift after the first war ended. He never thought he’d see it again.

“What- how did this-” he tripped over his words, unable to express all of his emotions so fast. 

A hand fell to his shoulder, gripping it gently.. “Just breathe, man. It’s a lot to explain, but I promise I’m okay!” A bright grin graced Tubbo’s lips and Tommy swallowed a sob. Apparently he didn’t do a good job at hiding his emotions, because concern quickly flooded his friend’s face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He inhaled shakily, nodding through tears that sprung to his eyes. “I just... I really missed you.”

“I missed you too!” Tubbo smiled again brightly. “I’ve been trying to convince Schlatt to let me come for weeks, but he kept saying it’s too dangerous.”

Tommy snarled so suddenly that his friend took a half-step back. “What a fucking prick, I’m gonna-”

“Wait, what d’you mean?” Tubbo interrupted, now the confused one. “He’s just worried about Wilbur hurting me, why are you so mad?”

He spluttered indignantly. “What do you mean _Wilbur_ hurting you? Schlatt’s the one that’s been hurting you, man! Wilbur told me everything about how cruel he is and how he doesn’t let you go anywhere and- and that’s why we don’t see you when we’re surveying Manberg and-”

The more Tommy babbled, the harder Tubbo shook his head, but all Tommy could see was how his horns moved with it. What did Schlatt do to his best friend? 

“I can explain later, but we need to go,” Tubbo pleaded. “I’ve already been gone a long time, and Schlatt said if I couldn’t convince you to come back before we shut down the borders for the festival... that you’ll have to stay here.” 

“Yeah, and why shouldn’t I?” he asked, being more stubborn than necessary. He couldn’t just betray Wilbur and L’Manberg like everyone else did. What would that do to Wilbur, who already refused to trust anyone and would be completely alone? 

A small voice in the back of his head reminded him of Wilbur’s erratic behavior and paranoia, but he shoved it down. Doubt is what caused Wilbur to- to...

Tommy wouldn’t end up the same. 

“Look at you!” Tubbo said, gesturing to his sickly form and pale skin. “You’re living in a cave and you look like a nervous wreck! You need to get away from Wilbur before-”

“Well, you’re a fucking hybrid! You’re a hybrid and you’re defending the guy who exiled me and Wilbur!” he exclaimed. “I’m supposed to pretend like I’m the insane one here?”

His friend opened his mouth to protest but let it shut, exhaling harshly through his nose. Tubbo ran a hand through his hair, fingers grazing over his horns. “Listen, man, I know it’s...a lot, but you just have to trust me. _We need to go_.”

“I-”

“Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice echoed down the ravine and Tommy immediately froze, eyes widening. 

Tubbo acted first. 

Grabbing Tommy’s arm and dragging him out of the room and toward the tunnel that led to the outskirts of Manberg, his friend moved with such confidence he was filled with awe. Tubbo ran with the strength and conviction he used to radiate when he was building. He was almost jealous.

“Wait!” Tommy protested, but Tubbo continued to drag him through the tunnel. 

“Keep running!” Tubbo yelled back at him. When Tommy glanced behind them, Wilbur was in pursuit, eyes blazing. His trench coat was bloodied for some reason and his cheeks were hollow. He looked like a ghost. 

He began to run faster, mustering strength he thought he lost with hunger long ago. 

It was short lived, however, because it wasn’t ten seconds later when he tripped over his own feet and dropped to the ground a mere fifteen steps from the entrance to the surface. Pain shot through his shoulder and down his right arm, and something snapped out of place with a _crack_. Tommy screamed, his vision flooding with red as his lungs rattled in his chest. 

“Tommy!” Tubbo yelled somewhere in front of him. He felt his friend’s hands on his shoulders and he cried out again as another wave of pain moved through his arm. 

Tommy rolled to his back and saw Wilbur approaching them rapidly. He moved his uninjured arm and tried to push himself to his feet but he struggled to find balance and fell to the ground again. 

Panicked, he looked up to Tubbo, who was clenching his fists and shifting back and forth on his feet. There was no way Tubbo could beat Wilbur unarmed. His friend was going to get hurt and it was all Tommy’s fault. He would’ve started yelling at Wilbur to stop, but he was too numb and shell-shocked to do it. 

“Turn around, Wilbur.” Once again that confidence bled from Tubbo’s voice. “Now.”

“Not a chance in hell, you traitor,” Wilbur sneered, continuing to move forward.

He shrugged, teeth barring and showing off newly-grown fangs. “I warned you.”

Tubbo lowered his head, planted his feet, and charged forward, slamming his large horns into Wilbur’s body, sending the man flying back through the air. Wilbur hit the ground with a loud _thud_ and slid down the wood floor. A pained _oomph_ cut through the ringing in Tommy’s ears. 

His jaw dropped, which made Tubbo chuckle when he looked back at him as if he hadn’t just demolished a man a block taller than him. 

He grit his teeth to prevent a scream as Tubbo helped pull him to his feet and slung Tommy’s good arm over his shoulder. Taking one last look at Wilbur, who was still writhing in pain on the tunnel floor, he allowed himself to briefly mourn the friend and mentor he once had. 

Tubbo was right. He had to go. No matter how bad Schlatt might be... it was his only choice. He couldn’t live with this... this haunted shell of a man anymore.

He leaned into his best friend and allowed himself to be taken to Manberg - the place he swore off as enemy territory for months while living with a deranged lunatic. Perhaps this would be what he and Tubbo dreamed of together for so long. A sanctuary. Somewhere to grow and love and well... live. It almost sounded to good to be true. 

He tried not to get his hopes up.

For now, he’d trust Tubbo’s word. It was the only thing he really had faith in anymore. 

\---------------

It was winter on the server. The ground was covered in a thick layer of snow and the trees were layered with frost. A bitter wind swept across the land, biting his cheeks and numbing his nose. 

Tubbo practically radiated heat and seemed unfazed by the cold, but Tommy had been in a ravine close to lava for several weeks. The one time he left, he wore several layers of clothes and armor. So now he shook like a leaf in a tornado, teeth chattering so hard it made his jaw ache. 

“We’re almost there, just a little farther,” Tubbo said, breath turning to fog in the cold air. 

They finally reached the top of the hill they were climbing. His shoulders sagged in relief at the sight that awaited them. At the bottom of the valley sat the city he used to call home, streetlights glowing softly and smoke from fireplaces trickling out of homes and buildings. 

They made it. But something was different. 

The entire city was ornately decorated and buzzing with life. Citizens wearing hats and coats gathered around fires in the middle of lit plazas and passed around hot drinks. Wreaths were hung on every door along with little flags that he assumed bore the nation’s new design. Canopies prevented wind and snow from disturbing benches where couples and families rested. Children darted around, laughing among themselves and trying to snatch food from shop counters. The smell of baked goods, firewood, and pine needles wafted up from the city. 

A large white banner was hung on a building proclaiming in dark blue cursive letters _“Winter Festival.”_

“Winter Festival,” he repeated hoarsely. Gods, he couldn’t remember the last time he drank water.

“Yeah, man. I was repairing the damage after the explosion so Manberg would be better than it was before, but we weren’t really sure how to celebrate it. Thus, the Winter Festival! It was my idea, but Schlatt loved it so much that he kind of let me go overboard.”

“He...loved it.” His entire reality was so flipped, so completely and utterly shaken, that he could only manage to repeat things back. 

Where was the barbed wire in Manberg? Where was the grand podium and the dark throne that Wilbur described? His eyes were scanning as fast as they could, but they found none of these items.

Tubbo noticed his distress and tugged him forward. “C’mon, we need to get you inside. You’re talking like a broken record, big man.” 

Carefully, they descended the hill and entered the cobblestone streets of Manberg. A horse-drawn carriage clopped past them, leaving another row of tracks in the snow along many others. He tried to maneuver his arm so it wasn’t as suspicious, but no one seemed to be paying them any mind. The citizens were too busy... being normal - talking to their families, ordering food at stands, and enjoying the atmosphere. 

He remembered Phil and his gut wrenched. He would've loved this. 

Tubbo led him to a set a of wooden stairs leading up from the central plaza to where the White House used to be. The stairs were icy and he would’ve fallen if not for Tubbo catching him the moment he stumbled. He realized the old roles were reversed and now Tubbo was the one looking after him, where it should’ve been the other way around. 

He was so helpless and pathetic. For a moment, he considered... maybe Wilbur was right about him being useless.

 _No. None of that._ Not when he’s made it so far.

The White House was replaced by a large estate with multiple buildings surrounding a central fountain that was frozen solid. Streetlamps lit paths leading away from the center like a starburst. The buildings were brick and marble, but they looked welcoming and open with small arches and carvings of gods and history inscribed in the stone at the top of the walls. Ice-coated trees and gardens filled the empty spaces alongside benches and tables. A frosted hammock was strung up between two trees, and Tommy imagined Tubbo in the summer sitting in it and doodling sketches that designed the entire city. 

He hated that it was getting more and more difficult to believe things would be better with Wilbur in charge.

His friend helped him to the building on the right side, which was the only one with the porch light on. The wreath hung on the door had words inscribed on it, but he didn’t get a chance to read it. 

The door opened with a soft creak and warm air streamed out. Tommy practically jumped into the house, body naturally seeking out the warmth before he could think. He let out a relieved sigh and dropped his arm from Tubbo’s shoulder. The door clicked shut behind him but he was already moving toward a fireplace in the living room of the house.

He dropped to his knees in front of the fireplace, a soft cushion already placed there. His working arm held up to the fire, he steadied his breathing for the first time since they left Pogtopia. His ears registered someone kneeling down next to him.

“Home sweet home,” Tubbo said. He could hear the smile in his voice without seeing it. 

Tommy turned toward him, eyebrows drawn up. He inhaled slowly. “So... this is what you’ve been doing.”

“Mm.” Tubbo began dusting the snow off his horns, ram ears flickering. “Built this house around a month ago. It’s nice, I think. It’s lasted longer than any of my other places.”

He wasn’t really asking about the house, but he nodded. His right arm was still aching. “Do you have a healing potion or... food or something? If I don’t get something in me, this isn’t gonna heal.”

“Oh, right!” Tubbo shot to his feet and ran off. He heard a distant door being opened. 

He took a moment to look around the room. There were several couches surrounding a coffee table that was covered in paper and spreadsheets and a forgotten coffee mug. Paintings of ancient cities and landscapes hung from the wall. The large, tinted window displaying the outside world had dark blue, patterned curtains framing it that were illuminated by the firelight. 

A piano was pressed up against the right wall. He remembered Tubbo saying one time that he could play but he never had the time anymore with the war. The piano seat looked worn with use. He smiled.

Tubbo had really done a wonderful job with...how did he put it? _“Repairing the damage after the explosion so Manberg would be better than it was before.”_ The destruction of Wilbur’s explosion hadn’t even touched the White House, but apparently they renovated the area regardless. 

Why did Wilbur hide all this from him? He kept Tommy in that gods-forsaken empty, dark ravine while he starved for months. And for what? The pain in his chest bubbled back up. 

He could’ve been here with Tubbo, building a better place for them to live, but instead he was in that pit plotting to reconquer the country so Wilbur could be president again. The more time he spent away from his former mentor, the more flaws he found in their cause. 

So there was a hint of truth in Wilbur’s madness after all. They had been the “bad guys.” But he didn’t have to be. Not anymore.

He should’ve known after the messages from Niki stopped and communication with Manberg ended that something was wrong. Wilbur said it was because Schlatt didn’t allow anyone to contact the outside world, and he believed it without a second thought. Everything he knew about Schlatt after being exiled came from Wilbur. 

It struck him that he barely knew anything about the man whom he hated. Tommy frowned. Did he really hate Schlatt or did he hate the idea of him that Wilbur planted in his head? 

“Oh.” A voice interrupted his thoughts. “Hello.”

He swiveled his head around and there stood the man himself. Of all the possible confrontations with the president he imagined, this was never one of them. The tall hybrid looked weary, yet healthy and solid, and he stood with the easy self-assurance Tommy had seen in Tubbo throughout the day. Schlatt had shed his signature suit for a loose, black sweater and sweatpants. His hooves were bare on the floor instead of being hidden by nice shoes. 

Tommy had never gotten a good look at the hybrid’s eyes before, but he always imagined them to be red and well, evil. But instead of a glowing red they were a rich shade of dark brown that stared down at Tommy with a gentle twinkle.

Schlatt surveyed him and his forehead creased. “Is your arm alright, kid?”

There was a pause as his brain rebooted. “Uh, Tubbo is getting a potion, I think,” he managed. 

“Right, right, good.” The hybrid nodded, voice probably more tired than he wanted to let on. He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you came back with him.”

“You... exiled me. Remember?” Tommy raised his eyebrows. 

A sigh. “Believe it or not, I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe you.” 

It was simply too good to be true. Schlatt _had_ to hate him. At least a little bit. There needed to be some animosity or Tommy had been loathing a man unnecessarily for months and helped Wilbur try to kill him. He refused to believe it for his sanity's sake. 

“I got it!” Tubbo came back in the room, holding a healing potion above his head in triumph. “Let’s get that arm-” 

He spotted Schlatt standing in the living room and a grin broke out on his face. “Dad!”

_Dad?_

Tubbo threw himself into Schlatt, who firmly wrapped his arms around the boy and smiled softly. As the two embraced, the puzzle pieces finally clicked together. Tubbo’s sudden status as a ram hybrid, his fierce defense of the president, and the fondness he had for this new home - some way, somehow, Tubbo was Schlatt’s son. 

The loving gaze Schlatt gave Tubbo made his heart ache again. It was a far cry from the false affection and platitudes Wilbur always fed them - the encouragement that was meant to fuel their blades, not their hearts. He shifted to his feet, and when he and Schlatt made eye-contact again, the awkwardness was replaced by respect. Their newfound understanding was simply their mutual attachment to the boy wrapped in Schlatt’s strong arms, regardless if it was familial or friendship. That love bridged any sort of divide their pasts had wedged between them. 

“Here you go.” Tubbo wiggled out of his father’s arms and handed Tommy the potion. “You’ll be good as new in no time!”

“Just like you,” Tommy said.

Tubbo smiled. 

\---

_“Yeah.”_


End file.
